“I was a burnout, I was a dropout, I was out of my head,
I was a surfer, I had a skateboard, I was so heavy man, I lived on the strand, I was so wasted…still am.”

Black Flag, Wasted


Drug Boasting (Or “Man, I do a lot of drugs and get so high! You wouldn’t believe it!”)

Drug boasting is not my thing. I find it immature. Though there is quite a bit of drug use in my book. But it’s only there because we were doing a lot of drugs at the time and I tried my best to present it as something casual and even with a bit of fun, like a sense of joy; an extension of life and the joy gained from living a life freely and without constraints.

Bills Hicks Discussing LSD

Always that same LSD story, you’ve all seen it. ‘Young man on acid, thought he could fly, jumped out of a building. What a tragedy.’ What a dick! Fuck him, he’s an idiot. If he thought he could fly, why didn’t he take off on the ground first? Check it out. You don’t see ducks lined up to catch elevators to fly south—they fly from the ground, ya moron, quit ruining it for everybody. He’s a moron, he’s dead—good, we lost a moron, fuckin’ celebrate. Wow, I just felt the world get lighter. We lost a moron! I don’t mean to sound cold, or cruel, or vicious, but I am, so that’s the way it comes out. Professional help is being sought. How about a positive LSD story? Wouldn’t that be news-worthy, just the once? To base your decision on information rather than scare tactics and superstition and lies? I think it would be news-worthy. ‘Today, a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration. That we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively. There is no such thing as death, life is only a dream and we’re the imagination of ourselves’ … ‘Here’s Tom with the weather.’
—  Bill Hicks 

In the Beginning there was the Word, and the Word was Holy

This must be the business for now on. No more thoughts of love. No more women. No more alcohol or drugs. Only writing. The words are all that matter – when the writing is pure it’s like a small miracle.

But sometimes a man can get caught up in other things – religion, politics, God, drugs, women. You lose track of where you were headed. But the word, throughout everything, remains holy. The word remains pure. When the words are right they aren’t just read but an experience is created – and we pass from the material to something resembling the ethereal.